Legend of the Spellthief

Marcus grabbed a handful of snow and pressed it against the face of one of the unconscious magi, their face shivering in fear and fright. Grabbing the neckline of their robes, Marcus pulled the man close to his face.

“Parrot, or feel your insides freeze”, Marcus ordered with a fire in his eyes.

The man had a cold sweat build over him as he replied, “Ok, I will, I will!”

“Do you have any other locations on this mountain?”

“No. Just the warping checkpoint here.”

“Did you set up the teleportation defences on the mountain?”

“No. Those are old instalments. We carved out an area here to use.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, “You’d need a lot of magi to track and complete that task. Who hired you?”

“Thermo—” the man tried to reply but was cut off.

The sound of snapping twine was heard as the man’s eyes went in opposite directions, his body limping.

“Fuck”, Marcus exclaimed as he dropped the body, “they must be trapped, guarded against telling people information.”

“Is there a delay?” Amalia asked as she held the armour covering her stomach.

“Seems that way. Probably due to distance and time. This business was set up a bit ago, the traps might have degraded.”

Amalia followed Marcus as he stood up, “Will we be able to have them use the teleportation circles for us?”

Marcus rubbed his chin, “That man didn’t seem to know about the safety measure. If we are to use the circles, it will probably be one-way if it kills them on arrival.”

Amalia sighed.

“This is risky, can I protect her?” Marcus thought to himself as he gave a side-eye to Amalia.

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to be rushed after the teleport. You’ll have to stick with me and listen to what I say. Otherwise, you might not make it”, Marcus informed as he stared at Amalia to study her reaction.

“I understand that. Doesn’t make it feel any better, but… We have to do this, right?”

“Logan has shitty odds at the court with the faked evidence. If magi are involved, especially ex-MT members, they could have ‘altered’ witnesses and assurances.”

“No doubt in your mind then”, Amalia replied.

“He’s there for me because I am there for him. You were there on our trip to Tinte. Our help isn’t expected because it’s already given.”

“Sounds like a long bond.”

“Deathly scenarios can feel like an eternity, but they’ve not felt lonely for over 2 months.”

Moving to the next magi, Marcus picked them up and repeated the task of waking them up.

A period was spent waking and forcing a few mages to work the teleportation circles for Marcus and Amalia. Two more had died as they tried to work around the mental triggers, but thankfully those were easy enough to hide with the final three who got to work on the circle that would send them to the Holdings Centre.

“Lords of transposition, take our essence and warp it away. Ladies of translocation, pick us up and ferry us thither.”

The mages chanted over and over, changing lines here or there, but already having lost to Marcus they weren’t going to tempt fate and attempt a sneak attack. At least not on this side.

The chanting took a while, the mages being far under levelled for using the circles naturally. But it seemed they had been taught in the ways of ritual casting, something that had been brought up a few times in the past, and the use of these circles would have been crucial to the making of the Sunsilt Bolts.

Before Marcus could think about it further, the circle lit up and shot a column of energy to the ceiling. In a few seconds, the light faded with a final wind blast, revealing a better-kept room with floating scones of flame to light it.

As they apparated at their destination, the three mages who had chanted all flinched and let out spurts of painful groans before all falling to the floor. It was a close call for their safety measures kicking in, though it did trap Marcus and Amalia in their new location.

A nearby counter had a mage jump to his feet as he saw the new arrivals, Marcus quickly warped and smashed the foe’s head back into the desk, sending them into unconsciousness.

“At least that works”, Marcus thought to himself as he smirked at being able to use Dimensional Jaunt.

“My quest circle disappeared”, Amalia informed as she looked around with worry.

“No doubt they are protecting this place from divination”, Marcus surmised as he walked back to his ally.

“But teleportation is fine?”

“The circle allowed us here, this room probably isn’t protected”, Marcus replied as he looked around, “No windows, that might prove an issue.”

Amalia kept close as she also surveyed the area.

It wasn’t too ornate, a normal stoney interior. But it certainly was made with purpose, a room within a larger building.

Marcus crept to the door and peered through the keyhole to see a few people milling about outside. Thankfully, there was a staircase in view, going both up and down.

“Can’t risk fighting this whole place. The cells should be downward”, Marcus reaffirmed in his head.

“How’s it look?” Amalia asked.

“Seven people, maybe five if some move into other rooms”, Marcus replied as he looked around the next room as best he could through the keyhole.

“We don’t want to make a fuss, do we?”

Marcus stared without reply for a bit before grabbing Amalia’s shoulder, “There”, he called as he spotted a good enough gap to warp.

Getting sucked into their centres with a pull of air, the pair exploded outwards with a rush of wind just barely out of sight from the hall, partway down the stairs. Marcus pulled on Amalia to have them both duck down quickly.

Tiny steps down the tall stairs were drowned out by the clacking and latching of a window in the main hall. Marcus had lined up their movement with the arrival of an ooran messenger, lucky enough of a distraction.

The sound of dripping and whistling of wind got louder as the pair found themselves in the basement. Spare lines of light decorated the floor, following them to translucent windows dissuading Marcus from an easy get-away.

Making a claw with his left hand and pulling towards himself into a fist, Marcus chanted, “Gaia Skystrike”, piercing the back of a jailor and pulling their body atop their counter.

A normal sight for a basement with prison cells, but Marcus was quick on the draw and stopped them from alerting anyone else further inward.

Amalia skipped to the side as she found a board with pins and nails, picking out a ring of keys she joined Marcus who skimmed over the ledger that was previously blocked by the corpse.

“LD-13 and LD-27”, Marcus recited as he looked at Amalia, “got the keys? Good”, he said as he took them from his ally, thumbing through them as he led the Guardian into the prison proper.

Numerous cells lined the wall and met into a cross-junction, splitting ahead as well as to the sides. Marcus pointed to his left as the two moved into a corridor of doors, metallic bars so close together that it seemed like walls.

Marcus dropped his staff and pulled both hands towards himself as he chanted twice, “Gaia Skystrike”, forming two spikes of earth and killing another guard who patrolled the corridors.

Kicking up the staff into his hands, Marcus continued. “11, 12, 13!” he counted in his head as he came to a locked cell, joined by occupied ones on either side.

“This one”, Amalia called out as Marcus already planted the key in the lock.

A satisfying click was heard as the creaky metal revealed the opening to nearby prisoners. Whimpers were heard as well as rebellious growls.

Jogging to a kneeling position, Marcus pulled a cloth hood off of the first victim, a battered, scarred, and bruised Jirango looked at his saviour through a single eye, almost blocked by black and purple skin.

Marcus placed a hand on Jirango’s shoulder and used Healer’s Caress to smooth the swelling, allowing the Half-Hand a better look at his regular workmate.

“Thank Pondress you’ve found me”, Jirango spoke as a few droplets of blood seeped through his lips.

Marcus looked over the man, both legs, he could walk, but his left hand had been severed, a nub ending his wrist. “Are you fine to move?” Marcus asked.

Jirango nodded so slightly it was hard to notice, “Yeah”, he spoke with a raspy voice.

Marcus helped the tortured man sip from a waterskin as Amalia whispered over, “Someone is coming.”

Marcus jogged out of the cell as he did a similar spell attack to bring another guard to the floor, it wasn’t going to take long for the trail to lead to them.

“Amalia, bring him along”, Marcus ordered as he darted his head left and right, running towards the next cell. “Too many people to save”, he thought to himself.

The Guardian slowly helped Jirango to his feet, trying to follow Marcus’s fast movements while keeping an eye and ear out for trouble.

Translucent glass let light in, but no sight, Marcus was going to have to get creative if he was to get out of here.

Finding the next cell, Marcus opened it and recovered a slightly better-for-wear Xican. However, his tongue had been severed and his fingers spiked with nails. A common trick to make casting difficult, but made Marcus sick regardless.

Healing the caster wouldn’t return his tongue, but let the mage see Marcus clearer and accept his help.

Xican tugged at Marcus’s arm, pointing to his back and the knife at Marcus’s belt. Marcus looked at the pulled-away shirt to reveal a sigil, no doubt it was a trap or tracker. Recognising the request, Marcus spun his dagger in his hand and quickly cut out a large section of skin from Xican.

Amalia arrived to cries of pain and blood-soaked floors as Marcus threw the sigil skin to the floor. “Is he alright?”

“He’ll live. We need to get out. How is Jirango?” Marcus asked as he helped Xican hobble into the hallway.

“We can move slow.”

“Carry him.”

“Do it”, Jirango accepted.

Amalia nodded and picked the Half-Hand into a princess carry.

“I will open up a path, get ready”, Marcus spoke.

Xican nodded as he held onto the Devout’s shoulder, Amalia looking around for any sign of danger.

It was a pile of luck that let them find these two so quickly, but then, Amalia’s powers of a PC made it so. On his own Marcus would have taken much longer to do this.

“Gaia Shot”, Marcus chanted as he shot a spike of earth at the windows up high.

The shard of dark brown flew across the air as it soared to the glass, however, their momentum stopped completely just a few feet away.

“What?!” Marcus exclaimed as he felt his body get heavy.

The four classed beings hit the floor as a force of power wrapped around their arms and dragged them down.

A form emerged from nothingness as black shadows revealed a black-sclera woman, her hand wiggling around as she concentrated on the escapees. She was shortly joined by seven other mages, eight in total as they surrounded and planted their hands and legs onto the group’s limbs.

“Now isn’t this a surprise”, the lady began speaking as she approached Marcus, “The partner has the powers of the master.”

Marcus stared hatefully into the lady, her jet-black hair dangling close to his face, “The below are you?”

“Friends of your enemies. We were warned to keep an eye on these two. You think we’d let them go so easy?” The lady replied as she dropped the movements of her hand, the spike of earth landing on the floor behind her.

“There’s that Telekinesis again, damn it”, Marcus thought to himself.

“Your bodies will do well to add to our cauldrons”, the lady informed as she caressed Marcus’s face.

“Get off him!” Amalia shouted, another thug placing a foot on her head to force her face down.

“Another Knight to sacrifice in your quest? Some may say you have a bias”, the lady spoke as she looked at Amalia in the corner of her eye.

“What do you want with Logan?” Marcus asked.

“Want? No. It’s a need. He needs to die. And if it takes years in a cell or days at the block, so be it.”

Marcus twitched upwards, the two people keeping him down struggling against his strength. Two others rushed over and grappled the Devout, then another one, their hands wrapped around the man on the floor, pinned precisely.

Marcus could see the lady still twitch two of her fingers, as he attempted teleportation he found it was blocked by her. So many of this opposing team could block it, a direct counter to how Logan operated. But she needed to concentrate on it.

“So, what you gonna do with us?” Marcus demanded.

“You? You’ll be studied, the others will be harvested. We at least need the Half-Hand for backups for a while”, the lady answered with an air of superiority.

“I guess hunters still hunt monsters”, Marcus spoke with bile.

The lady smirked, “At least you won’t be. Knock him out.”

Another thug moved to Marcus, making six on him and one on Amalia. Xican and Jirango had been so battered they provided little resistance.

Marcus started to chant, as with so many foes close to him, it allowed him a better vantage point for his plan. Gripping his hands as best he could, he chanted, “Gaia Wall”, into the dirt to hide his voice, he tried and tried, the pinning motion and pain making it hard to cast, but the fourth time broke through.

A tall wall of stone erupted upwards, some of the mages getting toppled off, others being brought up. Marcus got loose and kneed the wall, freeing himself on the side of his allies.

Red mist erupted as the wall met the ceiling, crushing three of the mages.

As he fell, Marcus spun and threw his hand toward another window, “Gaia Shot”, hurtling another spike to crash through the glass and reveal the outside.

Landing on his side, Marcus tumbled to his feet as the wall crumbled. Warping once, he grabbed Xican and Jirango, then again to hit his foot onto Amalia’s leg.

With hope deep in his heart, Marcus looked to the outside, through the broken window as he mentally commanded, “Dimensional Jaunt!”.

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